Playing With Fire
by The Lioness Lives
Summary: The Calormenes are over and Peter gets hurt - badly.  R&R!  Alex is back!  INSANE PLOT TWIST SO BIG THAT IF YOU SKIP THIS STORY AND READ THE ONES AFTER IT, YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND A THING!  Even I can't believe what I put them through. COMPLETE!
1. Fire

There's a funny thing I've noticed about Susan when we're about to have ambassadors or an embassy or royal people/persons (circle one) or all three over: she gets a bit, ah, irritable.

"Alex! What are you doing?"

"Um, breathing?"

"You shouldn't be here just standing around! Go polish your sword or something."

I looked down at my sword. I could see my reflection in it. I told Su so.

"I don't care! Just go do something productive."

Under my breath, I muttered, "but that would be _counter_productive to my better nature."

Turning around, I started walking towards the staircase that led up to my room. I would take the secret passage from there, visit Peter, and get back to my room without anyone (but Peter, that is) noticing. I hadn't had much of a chance to be with him in a while, and I wanted to see him before the Calormenes came.

Slipping through my door, I headed over to the section of wall that hid the other door, the secret one. Pushing the wall aside, which wasn't easy, even with my Gift, I opened the door. Grabbing an already lit torch from the wall (Peter and I keep it well stocked, because it's the only place we get any privacy with one another) I started walking down the narrow, dim corridor.

Half-way there, I tripped over a stone step that I hadn't seen coming, and dropped my torch. Swearing bitterly, I bent down to retrieve it. As I was too engrossed in finding the missing torch, I didn't see the other light coming towards me. I heard Peter's nearly silent tread on the stone, and straightened. He came out of the darkness, smiling. "You've got quite a large vocabulary, Sweetheart."

"Shut up," I answered, but I didn't mean it. He knew I didn't mean it, as I was grinning. He bent down, and found the torch. He lit it and then handed it back to me. He reached up, only a little, as he was about six feet tall, and set his torch in a bracket in the wall. He did the same with mine. We now had a little circle of light.

He turned back to me, and leaned against the wall, casually. I waited, watching him. "Su on your case again?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"I'll talk to her, and I'll tell her that not everything has to be perfect for the Calormenes. If it did, we'd have to sell Ed. Don't tell him I said that though," he said, his eyes twinkling. I laughed. He took a step towards me, and then placed his hands on my shoulders. "This'll probably be the only time I'll get to do this until they leave, so –" His hands slid from my shoulders to my back, and he kissed me. I slipped my arms around his neck. When we pulled apart, he was smiling. "I'll see you tonight, Lioness." He turned, and went back to his room, grabbing a torch from the wall as he passed it.

I took the other torch, and then went back to my room.

Pulling on a full-sleeved white shirt, a black, leather vest, black pants, black leather boots, my sword belt, quiver, knives, sword, bow, and arrows, plus my other assorted weapons, I got ready. Heading over to the mirror, I brushed my long, black hair, and then put it into its usual braid.

I heard Lucy running down the corridor, banging on Peter and Edmund's doors, calling that the Calormenes were going to be here in five minutes. I stepped out before she woke the Owls in the Western Woods by pounding on my door.

"Alex! You have to hurry!"

"We're coming, Lu. Calm down. You're giving me a headache," Becca, my younger sister, said.

We started walking down the hallway, to meet Su at the Great Hall.

The four of them went and sat on their thrones. Peter lounged in his, looking for all the world like an arrogant High King, which was what the Calormenes thought of him. Lucy looked excited. Edmund looked slightly bored. Susan was the picture of a lady, sitting up straight, prim and proper. Becca and I took our places: me between Peter and Edmund, Becca between Susan and Lucy, both of us hostile and alert.

The herald, a centaur named Arcturius, stamped his hoof twice on the marble floor. "Introducing His Majesty, the Royal Prince Rabadash, Heir to the Throne of Calormen, Duke of . . . " It went on and on. The Prince came up, looking like an overgrown peacock, strutting in front of Their Majesties like he was better than them. As if. He was barely 6 feet tall. Peter topped him by about two inches, and Peter was 17!

He noticed me, and sent a look my way that he must have thought was flirtatious, but I just thought made him look dumber than he already did. I raised my eyebrows and curled my lip in a smirk. I slipped into Peter's head. _By The Lion, Pete. He's flirting with me. And he's failing miserably._

I saw Peter stifle a laugh behind a yawn. A Faun came through the door on Becca's side, and whispered something in her ear. She looked at Peter for a second, probably telling him something in her head. He gave the slightest of nods, and before he had returned his attention to the parade of Calormen officials, she was gone. He snuck a look my way, knocking on the door to my mind. I let him in. _Rider group's here. Go supervise. Wish I could go with you._

I was out of the room in a flash, relieved to be free of the endless stream of titles and unpronounceable names that I would have to remember. Hurrying down to one of the many side doors of Cair Paravel, I stepped out into sunshine. I watched the Rider group come through the forest. The Lion's Riders are an elite group of fighters, sorcerers, and military strategists that keep the general population safe. They patrol the borders, take care of any bandits, and hand out punishments for petty crimes, such as someone stealing their neighbor's prized recipe for apple pie.

They came, looking tired. Bandits had been attacking Beruna for a while now, and I'd decided to take care of them. Good recipes for apple pie are hard to come by.

Becca was standing by Malorn, a faun of the Lion's Riders, and their main military strategist. I overheard him talking as I walked up "-and they won't let us through. We nearly lost our best mage trying to get through it."

"Trying to get through what?" I asked.

"They have a strong magical barrier that they can't pass. It goes across Beruna," Becca answered.

"Peter and I should be able to handle it," I said calmly. "We'll go tomorrow, and get away from the Calormenes. Good work, all of you," I added. "Get some rest. We've got a ball to go to tonight, and I don't want you falling of your feet while dancing with the Calormenes. Su would never forgive us." The entire assembly relaxed, and started drifting off in different directions, back to their rooms, where they would wash and catch up on some sleep.

I heard a voice in my head. _Alex! Get back here! Some of the Calormen knights want to meet you. They want to see if you're as good as people say. I told them you're better than that, but they wouldn't believe me._

_Coming, Pete._

_Good. Maybe you can scare some of these girls away from Ed and me._

_Flirt._

_The biggest, Sweetheart._

I started to walk down the corridor, with Becca following me. When we got back to the Great Hall, I saw that the procession of conceited nobles had dispersed into what was basically a mob of over-dressed, overeducated snobs. I spotted Peter near the table that held food, and walked over, my head up, alert, watchful. Stepping up next to him, I waited for the challengers of my ability to show themselves. It didn't take long. They walked up, haughty and arrogant, in overly-intricate armor that wouldn't have lasted a single battle, let alone a war. Peter turned and walked over to his sister, dispersing the crowd of admirers with a single look. The knights turned their attention back to me.

They looked me up and down, their faces smiling, but underneath was pure disdain. I hated them immediately. One looked at me, and said "If you're the Lioness, I would hate to see your sister."

My sword was out in an instant. My blade was at his throat before he knew what was happening. "Take it back. Now," I hissed.

"Lioness," Peter said, his eyes telling me to get over there, _now._ I ignored him.

"Take it back!" I stepped closer.

"Are you some sort of pet that can be called?" one the knights asked mockingly. I shot him a warning glare and he stepped back.

I felt a hand on my arm. Peter pulled my sword from my fingers, watching me with eyes that said _don't. _I looked up at him, my eyes defiant.

"Alexa," he warned. I sighed, and then held out my hand for my sword. He gave it back. I sheathed it. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked.

"Yes, my King," I answered. He led me to an alcove hidden from the rest of the room.

"Alex, you can't do that."

"They insulted both Becca and me!" I retorted.

"I know. I heard the whole thing. You can't let them get to you. You know that," he said, taking my hands. "You're so strong. It's one of the things I love about you, but sometimes your pride is too much." I looked down, knowing he was right, but unwilling to admit it. "Look at me, Lioness," he said softly. I did. "They've insulted your family. Challenge them. Disgrace them. Prove yourself." He turned and left. I felt a grin spread over my face. I could do that.

I walked out. Going over to the group of knights, I stopped in front of the one who had insulted me. "I, Alexa Katherine Ride, by the right given to me by Aslan, do hereby challenge you for the offence of insulting me and my family. The duel shall be with swords, and the winner shall be the one who draws first blood. The time, should you accept this challenge shall be now, here, in front of these people." I turned without waiting for a response, knowing that the knight wouldn't dare to refuse a challenge from a girl almost four years younger than he was.

He spoke. "I accept the challenge."

"Good," I said, and began to stretch, doing a few lazy back flips. The fauns had cleared a large circle in the middle of the room. People started to gather at the sidelines. I saw Peter and Edmund talking. I knew they were betting on how long it would take me to draw first blood.

The knight was in front of me. He hadn't stretched. Good. He was cocky, arrogant, incredibly stupid, and also stiff. I turned and bowed to my King. He nodded. The knight turned and bowed to Prince Rabidash. We started circling each other. I watched his chest muscles, knowing that the first sign of an attack would come from there. After a few minutes of pointless circling, I got a bit bored. I jumped, spinning as I went, and sent a wicked-fast uppercut his way. He ducked it and swiped at my legs, but I jumped, flipping over backwards as I went, my feet narrowly missing his face. He stumbled back. I shook my head. "Tsk, tsk. Didn't your Mummy ever tell you that you should never accept a challenge from someone who's better than you are?" I asked.

"I'll bet your father was a slum-born fifth-class village idiot," he returned.

"My father _was_ a slum-born, fifth-class village idiot."

I spun, my sword whirling through the air. He barely had time to block my blows. Amateur.

"Your mother met your father while they were begging in the streets," the knight said.

I paused. "My mother's dead," I answered calmly. "My father killed her." His eyes widened.

I slipped my sword in under his armor (honestly, body armor in the Cair?), and nicked his arm. He cried out. "Oh, come on. It wasn't that deep," I said. "Delah," I called.

The Nymph hurried over. "What poor lad have you hurt now, dear?" she asked.

I jerked my head in the knight's direction. He was staring up at me with reverent eyes. "Him."

Peter turned to Edmund and held out his hand. "Ten Gold Crowns please."

Edmund sighed and dug into his pockets. "Here," he said begrudgingly, "ten Gold Crowns."

Peter took and pocketed them, giving me a wink. "He bet five minutes, and I bet two. I won by two minutes and 17 seconds. You're losing it, Lioness. You used to be able to beat Oreius in two minutes. I remember when you made it in one."

"I wasn't training _you_, then," I answered.

"Fair enough. Fair enough."

"You two were betting on the fight?" Susan asked.

"Of course, sister dear. I thought you would've expected it."

Susan sighed and shook her head, but she was smiling.

Rabadash walked forward, an obviously fake grin plastered on his face. "High King Peter, if I may talk to you for a moment?"

I saw Peter's back straighten, saw him holding his head higher. He was indeed magnificent, as his title said. 17 years old, and more of a King than Rabadash in all his overdone finery. In plain, simple clothes, Peter could best Rabidash in any category. I was proud to call him my King. "Of course," he answered calmly, but I knew he didn't trust Rabidash: none of us did.

He allowed himself to be led away by Rabadash, who was acting as though he owned the place. He probably wanted to. I followed, soundless and watchful, not about to let Peter out of my sight while Rabidash was with him. I could hear them talking quietly, most likely discussing the alliance that we so desperately needed.

"Peter, you must realize that we can't possibly – "

"I do realize that, _Prince_ Rabadash. What I need is for you to _make_ it possible." I could hear the anger in his voice at having his title dropped so casually from the Prince's sentence. He was offended, and I knew that it wouldn't end well unless something happened. I, sadly, couldn't interfere. This was Kingly talk, and I'm not Kingly. Neither is Rabadash. In fact, he's anything but, but he was of a royal family, and it's hard to argue with them.

"I'm afraid I can't, unless we add something more to the bargain . . . like your bodyguard, perhaps." Peter's head snapped up. His eyes burned with hatred, but he controlled himself.

"No." I could see he was struggling to not kill Rabadash on the spot.

I was aghast. Rabidash wanted _me_ as part of a _peace treaty?_ Was he more insane than we'd thought he was? Didn't he know that human trafficking is punishable by death in Narnia?

"Why not? There must be plenty of young warriors in Narnia who would kill to be the High King's bodyguard."

Peter shook his head. "I don't want to have to deal with all the complaints we'd get because of that. The people love her and she's the only thing that stands between us and invasion. None of us are eager to open that door quite yet, if ever, especially after the last time someone invaded Narnia. _That _resulted in the Hundred Year Winter."

"What about your army?"

"They are armed and ready for anything. But Alexa is the one who brings them together and she directs them when my royal brother and I can't."

"What of General Oreius?"

"He is her second in command. We don't want to risk either of them."

"Are you sure that your unwillingness to trade her for peace is strictly for military reasons? There's nothing personal involved, is there? I would hate find that we'd taken her and you happened to . . . ah . . . be more than friends with her, if you see what I mean."

I could see Peter's breath get shallower, and I saw Rabadash smile smugly at Peter's reaction. He knew all he needed to know now.

"I'm not sure I do know what you mean. Do enlighten me."

"It's not possible that you are . . . in love with her, is it?"

This had to stop. I beckoned to a nearby Faun. "Distract Peter. Tell him anything. Say the stable is on fire, I don't care. Just get Rabidash away from him," I whispered into his ear. He nodded at me, then hurried over to Peter.

"Sire," he said, panting slightly, as though he had just run a great distance. "Sire. I'm sorry to interrupt you, but there's a problem down at the stables. Someone set them on fire!"

Peter looked up at him, startled. "What?"

"The stables, Sire. They're on fire!"

I took this as my cue and started for the door. I got out into the courtyard, and then started to run to the stables. I burst through the doors. "Horses! Out!"

They galloped out, into the meadow. I stepped back and raised my palms. "Avra!" Fire flew from my hands onto the stable roof. It was in flames in an instant. I waited, then ran up towards the Cair. I saw Peter racing towards us, hands already glowing the blue of his magic. We ran and threw our hands out in front of us, yelling "Tyra!"

Water shot from our palms, and for a moment, it enveloped the blaze. We thought that we might be able to stop it.

It wouldn't stop.

I shoved as much power as I could into the water, but it wouldn't stop. Suddenly, an explosion destroyed the stable.

Peter was thrown backwards from the blast and I saw his pant leg catch on fire. He couldn't use magic while flying through the air. He couldn't quench the flames. He screamed in agony.

He kept screaming.

I threw myself onto him, pressing my hands against his leg, trying to stop the fire. I only succeeded in burning my hands. Lucy ran up, and saw the blaze. She threw her hands out, sending water into the stable. Subjects before family. Becca and all the mages of Cair Paravel followed suit. With their combined efforts, the fire was stopped. Lucy turned towards the still screaming Peter. She instantly started running as fast as her short, little girl legs could carry her towards the castle. It wouldn't be fast enough. Becca ran and leaped onto one of the Palace Horses, and then galloped towards Lucy, swinging her up onto the mare and they almost flew towards the castle.

The Calormenes formed a circle around us. Delah, Edmund, and Susan shoved through their midst, along with several of the Lion's Riders. They ran to us. Peter had stopped screaming, but he was now staring around blankly, pain making him numb. His pant leg wasn't on fire anymore, but the piece of clothing was ruined. I could see awful burns on his leg. I was holding him, careful not to touch the leg. He looked up at me with chilling, empty eyes. "Alex?" he said quietly, and then slumped to the ground.

"Peter!" He had gone unconscious from pain. I'd only ever felt that kind of pain once, the kind that is so much that you can't feel or do anything. It's the worst kind of pain to be in.

Delah, looked closely at his leg, and then sat back and looked up at me. "I can't do anything."

I stared at her. She was Delah! What did she mean she couldn't do anything?

Lucy and Becca raced up. Lucy jumped down and ran to Peter, cordial in hand. She pulled out the stopper and tipped a drop into his mouth. I waited with baited breath. Pater didn't move. The cordial did nothing.

I looked at the stables still with smoke drifting lazily form the roof.

What had I done?

**AN: OOOOhhhhh! Sorta spooky/ominous. Review! 6 reviews = another chapter! Thanks!**


	2. Pain

Pain

**AN:Review!**

Susan, Lucy, and I sat around the dinner table. Our food lay untouched and cooling on our plates as we listened to the sound of the row going on above our heads. I could hear a livid Becca and a bitingly sarcastic Edmund trade poisonous words and angry blows as they fought about Aslan only knew what. They'd been at it for about twenty minutes when I decided they had to stop. I couldn't take my little sister being so angry anymore.

I stood, and Su and Lu stood with me. I sighed heavily and started the walk up to Edmund's room. I braced myself for what was about to come and opened the door. Becca stood by the bed, her fists clenched, facing Edmund, who was beside the desk. They both looked furious. Both their heads turned as we walked into the room. I could see the rage in Becca's eyes and the anger and hurt in Edmund's. Becca doesn't show pain, not when she can help it. It's a family trait.

"What?" Becca snapped, and it made me bristle.

"I think it's time that you two stop fighting and come down and have your dinner, before _ours _gets cold," I snapped back. My temper was even shorter than usual. Becca watched me rebelliously, and we stood there, glaring at each other, neither of us backing down. Stubbornness is also a family trait.

Edmund managed to get over to his sisters. Becca and I were still staring, testing each other to see who would give in. The tension mounted.

I waited.

Becca waited.

Our heads both whipped around when we heard the sound of a nymph's light step. A Naiad, Ariea, who is one of the few Nymphs who isn't "in love" with Peter or Edmund, stepped into the room. She looked between Becca and me and saw the way we were watching each other. She started boldly. "Your Majesties, My Ladies, if you'll excuse me, but the Healer would like to speak with you, Queen Lucy, and you, the Lioness, about High King Peter's condition. It is getting critical, and the Healer would like to try the cordial again."

"Of course," both Lucy and I answered immediately. I saw Edmund give Becca a dark look, and knew that they would be at it again. A teary-eyed Lucy and a fed up me fled, as the sounds of the fight escaladed, abandoning Su in the process.

We hurried down to the Infirmary. Lucy already had her cordial out, and we raced to Peter's side. He was pale and thrashing about. The Nymphs couldn't hold him down. His injured leg slammed into one of them, and she was shoved backwards as Peter cried out through his hallucinations. "Please! Please! Make it stop! Make it stop! Please! Just kill me! Kill me! Please, please!" Tears streamed down his face.

I ran forward and grabbed his arms, rubbing them, trying to get him to realize it was me. "Peter, Peter. It's okay. It's all okay. We aren't going to hurt you. Please, Peter. It's me. It's Alex. It's your Lioness."

He cried out again, and said through his nightmare, "Who are you? Please don't hurt me anymore. Please."

"I won't hurt you. Not ever. Please, Peter. It's okay. It's Alexa. It's me. Please Peter, I need you to calm down. I need you to stop struggling."

"Please don't cut anymore," he cried, softly, fearfully, like a child.

"I won't! I won't, Peter. I promise I won't cut anymore. I love you. I love you. Please, Peter, _please_." I was crying now, terrified at what he thought we were doing to him.

"I want to go home."

"We'll take you home, Peter. Just follow me. It's okay. We won't let them hurt you anymore. I promise, just stop struggling."

He stopped and I was overcome with fear. I looked over at Lucy, who was being held by Delah. She stepped forward, a determined look on her face, and pulled out her cordial and gave Peter a drop. I waited, scared that it wouldn't work.

Nothing happened.

I heard Lucy give a small sob, and didn't see her being led out of the room by Delah. The Nymphs stayed for a moment longer, and then left.

I sat on the edge of Peter's bed, watching his sleeping form. He hadn't woken up yet. It had been three days. Three miserable, terrifying, horrible days that I'd had to endure without him. I held his hand, hoping he'd wake up for me, but he just kept sleeping. I looked down, trying not to cry at the sight of his leg, bandaged now, but still glaringly wounded.

I jumped when I heard boots on the floor. It had to be Calormenes. I shook my head, clearing it, and squeezed Peter's hand. I didn't care what the Calormenes thought about it. I wasn't about to let go of him. Not for anything.

Rabadash walked through the door, with Delah following and protesting. "Your Highness. Please. He needs his rest. Please, My Lord."

"No," he said forcefully.

I stood up, dropping Peter's hand. "You will listen to Delah."

He looked at me. "What authority do you have that allows you to challenge me?"

"None, but that of High King Peter's heir, should his royal siblings die in battle." He seemed taken aback. I smirked. "Not what you were expecting, was it? I'm not the type of woman who just lets herself be walked over by _boys_."

"You are not of royal blood. How can you be his heir?"

"I am a Daughter of Aslan, the High King over all High Kings, Son of the Emperor Over the Sea."

He blinked. Point for me!

He turned to Delah. "Be gone, woman."

She left, after giving him a dirty look and "accidentally" making him trip as he walked towards me. I snickered, and sat back down. He took a few menacing steps toward me. I ignored him, intent upon getting Peter to wake up, possibly through force if I had to. I did _not_ want to be alone with Rabadash.

_Peter, please wake up and save me from this monster._

My prayers were answered. I heard Peter moan a small, pathetic moan and rushed for his side, grabbing his hand and watching him intently, searching for a sign of life, besides the shallow up and down movement in his chest that was the only thing telling me that he was still alive. His head turned a tiny bit and he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly at the sunlight stabbing in through the large windows.

His head turned my way and he smiled and reached up, brushing my hair out of my face. "Hey, Alex. I'm a bit of a sight, aren't I?" he said softly. I could only nod my head. He noticed Rabadash and his face hardened. Slowly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Hello, Prince Rabadash."

"Hello, King Peter." Peter's eyes flashed at not being called a High King, and rightly so, for a High King he was.

"Was there anything you wished to talk to me about? I'm afraid our last conversation got . . . cut short, due to some unfortunate events."

"Oh, no, everything's fine. I was just coming in to check on the Lioness."

"I'm surprised. I hadn't thought you cared." I heard the deadly sarcasm in his voice. He wanted Rabadash _out._

Luckily, Rabadash took the hint and left, with much ceremony and overdone bows.

Peter turned back to me and sank back into the pillows with a small, pain-filled groan. He looked up at me with pleading eyes. I knew what he wanted, and I couldn't say no to him. Not when he was in this much pain. I reached out and touched his face gently. I hated to see him this dependant on me. I sent small bit of magic through him and he sighed, his pain gone for the moment.

"Go back to sleep, my King," I whispered. He smiled a small smile, and soon I heard his breathing became heavy and even. His grip tightened on my hand and I sat with him long into the night.

A few hours later, I heard Delah come in quietly. I looked up from Peter. I was crying, the way I only do when I'm completely alone. Delah saw my expression, and pulled me into a warm hug. I needed some comfort right now. I didn't know how long Peter could stand the suffering he was in. I had to take his pain. I had, when I'd used my magic. It was how he hadn't been in agony when he'd fallen asleep. I had to do it. It was the only way I could even get _close _to getting close to deserving him. I was still taking it from him. My whole body burned with it, but mostly in my right leg, the same leg that was burned so badly on Peter.

I would take it, all of it, for him.

Delah whispered in my ear. "Rest, dear. You can stay here for tonight. You have to stop. You're killing yourself to keep him out of pain."

"I have to," I whispered back. "I need him too much to not."

"I know, but rest. That's an order of the Healer, not of Delah."

"Okay. Let me stay by him, though. Please."

"Alright. We'll bring a cot in."

"Thanks." I went back and sat down. In an instant, I was asleep.

* * *

><p>I woke up on a soft cot. I didn't know where I was. I lashed out with blade drawn and fists clenched. I heard a yelp, and turned toward its source. I sighed, relieved, and lowered my sword. Lionel was standing, looking disgusted and horrified. I didn't particularly care, but I didn't want to kill her. Not yet, anyway.<p>

I pulled myself off the cot and stood up, stretching. I pulled on my boots ad yawned. I saw Peter, lying on his bed, pain written all over his face, with his injured leg twisted at an odd angle. I turned to Lionel. "Help me with his leg. Please." I was that desperate for his pain to be relieved.

She nodded after thinking for a moment. Carefully, we pulled the covers off him, and I took his leg gently in my hands. I pulled as she did, and, inch by inch, we got his leg into a less painful position.

I took his hand and felt a shot of agony race through me. I gritted my teeth, not about to whimper. Then it became too much, and I fell, crying out, tears flowing freely, clutching my leg. How could he stand it? How did he survive? How?

I heard running footsteps, and the sound of someone yelling my name. There was a thump, and pain shot through me, hot and fiery. I screamed. It was too much, too much. Too much for me, too much for anyone.

Too much for him.

I would take it though.

For him.

**AN: six reviews = another chapter! Thanks!**


	3. Fear

**Fear**

I felt warm arms surround me and realized that Peter had woken up and was on the floor, holding me to him. He was whispering things that I couldn't hear. I felt his presence in my head. _Alex, you have to stop. Give me it back. You shouldn't, you _can't_ take this from me. It'll kill you, and that will hurt me more than any injury. Please, Alex._

_I can't._

_You have to. _Please_, Lioness. For me._

_I – I can't._

_You have to. Give it to me, Alex. That's an order._

I looked up through my tears and saw him gritting his teeth, taking it back. The pain subsided, slowly.

I realized suddenly that we were surrounded by spectators. Edmund, Susan, Becca, and Lucy were there, looking terrified. Delah was watching us intently, thinking very hard about something. There were several Nymphs there, watching us enviously. Why? It hurt. A lot. Why would they be envious of _us_? Then it occurred to me. Of course. I was being held. By _Peter_. Just about every Nymph in the castle was crazy about him, which made us being in love difficult on my social life. Not that I even _have_ a social life. Or want one.

We pulled away from each other reluctantly. Peter started to stand, but fell back, hissing in a sharp breath when he put weight on his leg. His family and I rushed forward, and with our combined efforts, we managed to get him onto the bed. He lay there, with agony-filled eyes, as Delah checked his leg. The sight made Lucy turn away and bury her face into Edmund's chest. He held her, staring at Peter's leg, unable to look away from shock. Susan had to leave the room. Becca just left before Delah took the bandage off. I stared in horror, recalling the pain he'd been in and realizing that that had to be what he felt normally, now that I saw the leg.

**(AN: For those of you with weak stomachs, please skip the next paragraph.) **It was red, with horrible scars and awful cuts that were still bleeding and oozed pus. The part of his leg that wasn't scarred was too pale, like there was no blood left in the leg. The skin in between the white and the red parts was tinged an awful, unhealthy green. When Delah touched it very lightly, with just the tip of one finger, Peter cried out.

**(AN: You can read now.) **I nearly fainted. I heard the sound of Edmund and Lucy hurrying out of the room. I took a step forward, staring at his leg, and then swayed. I forced myself to stay upright. I could not, would not, fall. I couldn't be girly now. I had to be strong. I heard the Nymphs quickly leaving the room. Peter gasped with pain, and then gritted his teeth, staring at me with haunting eyes.

I could hear him breathing faster and faster, uneven and shallow, as Delah cleaned the wound as best she could, and then wrapped it with fresh bandages. A moment later, he passed out. I turned to Delah. "I just wish there was something I could do."

"Pray to Aslan." I hadn't thought of that. Delah gave me a small smile and walked out on silent feet.

I looked out the window, towards the Eastern Sea. Aslan always came from the Sea, so to the Sea I looked. The waves always gave me a sense of . . _. life._ So wild and hectic, but also still and beautiful. As with storms, I could relate with the Sea. I felt the familiar rush of power, the familiar feeling of battle-bred adrenaline, but there was nothing to fight. So, I tried to send that power to Aslan.

_Aslan, no - _Daddy,_ please. Just please. We need You. Peter needs You_. I_ need You, because I need him. Please, just send Your blessing or come if You are able. Daddy, I can't live without Peter. Please. Please come and heal him. I'll die if it means he will live. Please, just let him live. If anything, let him live. If I never get to see him or You again, just let him live. Heal him, Daddy, please. I can't see him die for real. Please. Think of us and I know that it will be enough. Daddy please. But not my will, but Yours, and as You love us._

It was heart-felt, and slightly rambling, but I meant every word.

I need Peter.

I sat, watching him, remembering the first time I'd seen him sleep. He'd been a child, a year ago. Now, with his face gaunt from pain, he looked so much older, an adult before his time.

He was a King now, so I suppose he was an adult. But there had been those moments when the child in him would show through: when he gave me those cocky, lopsided grins, when he played a prank on Edmund or Becca, when he would hug me and spin me around, or come running out of the castle to grab me when I came back from battle, and when he would come into my room at night, swathed in a blanket, terrified because of a thunderstorm. I loved that child, and I loved that adult too.

So I waited and prayed, hoping desperately that Aslan would hear me and come. I needed him to come. I hoped that He could hear me. He was my only hope.

* * *

><p>I waited, the next day, for a sign that my prayers had been answered, but no luck. So, I, yet again, waited.<p>

And waited.

I'm not very patient.

Especially when my King is _dying._

But that's just me.

The next day, still no sign. The cordial still wasn't working. Peter was still having hallucinations. I was still forbidden from taking his pain.

I _hate _waiting.

But I had to.

Because there was nothing else to do but pray.

So pray I did.

I spent every spare moment in sort of an unending prayer, needing to, because it was the only way to talk to my Father, even if He didn't answer back. It was comforting to know that someone listens, no matter what crazy things I say.

Four agonizing days later, He came. I was out on the beach, needing to get away from it all. I heard a soft growl, and turned to see Him. I let out a gasp and then ran to hug Him, burying my face in His mane. He let out His laugh and then pulled away from me. "Child, you called?"

"Yes, Father. It's – it's Peter." I looked down. "Aslan, what did I do? Why couldn't we stop the fire? Why did I even start it in the first place? How could I be so stupid?"

"You started the fire because you wanted to protect your King from humiliation. The reason it didn't go out was because you need to learn to think before you act. It's your fatal flaw. It may get you or one of your friends killed someday."

"What can I do to save him?" I asked, needing Him to tell me that He could fix it easily, that it was only a matter of breathing on Peter and then Peter would be well and whole again.

"Child, I don't know. I won't be able to fix it. Only My Father, the Emperor Over The Sea can. I can only pass the pain to others, and I can't do that to you," He said, seeing the look in my eyes and knowing what I was thinking. "I can't, My Daughter."

"Please. Please! Father, I need You to. I'll do anything for it. _Please!"_

"Alexa . . . " There was grief and torment in His eyes.

"Please, Father. For Peter, for Narnia, for me." He bowed His great head, and I saw a single tear drop from His huge, amber eyes.

"Alright, Child. For you," He said, His voice betraying a horrible sadness.

I braced myself, closing my eyes and preparing for the pain that I knew was about to come.

I felt His breath on my face, warm and gentle, and then a searing heat spread across my leg, making me gasp. I crumpled, unable to stand, feeling the skin on my leg start to crack and break from heat. I screamed, agony racing through me, not just in my leg, but in my entire body, burning with a vengeance, clouding my mind. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't even think in complete sentences, the pain was too great. How had Peter withstood it? I was able to take a lot of pain, because of my Gift and my family history, but this was too great, even for me.

There was a bright flash of green light, and I felt as though something was leaving me, some sort of power was being pulled out of me, through my wound. There was another jerk, and a funny, freezing sensation behind my eyes, and then another gut-wrenching pull. Something else left as well, like my body was trying to heal me as I was being wounded. I heard shouting, odd disconnected sounds. Then I blacked out.

**AN: Cliffhanger! Review!**


	4. Impatience

**Impatience**

**AN: Review! Sorry for the long wait. I was sort of brain-dead on this chapter for a while.**

I awoke to Peter, looking down at me, a terrified horror in his eyes.

"Alex." It was a whisper, barely audible over the sound of hurried footsteps and hushed arguments. He pulled me to him, hugging me. Then his leg accidentally brushed against mine and a shot of agony surged through me. I cried out, and he quickly and carefully laid me back down on the bed.

My cry of pain must have alerted the Healers, because as soon as I was back on the bed, Delah walked through with clean bandages and wet cloths. She started to unwrap the bandages, making me wince; Peter was studying me with an odd look on his face.

"What?" I asked, wondering what could distract his attention away from my leg.

"Your eyes," he said. "They've gone green."

"They've always been green, Peter," I reminded him gently, wondering how my boyfriend happened to be _that_ oblivious.

"No . . . I mean, they were blue-green and brown-green before. Now they're just . . . green. And I can't sense any magic from you. None. It's like you're gone from my head. I could always feel your presence before, but now . . . it's like you don't have any magic left."

"It's because I don't," I answered, remembering the flash of green light and the tugging sensation and realizing what it was. "I don't think I have my Gift, either," I added. My best assets, swept away in one easy stroke. I didn't care. It was for Narnia. I could live without them.

His eyes widened. Apparently, he wasn't as flippant about me losing my magic and my Gift as I was. Hey, I wasn't that thrilled either, I just don't show it.

He looked away, from anger or fear I didn't know. I started to sit up, pushing the covers aside and ignoring Delah's warning look. I knew my limits. Peter turned back to me at the sound of me starting to get up, and pushed me back against the pillows, giving me a stern look. "Rest, Alex. I now pronounce you mortal. Being mortal means that when you're fatally wounded, you can't just wake up and get out of bed and be perfectly fine. I know it's a foreign concept to you."

That made me laugh, especially when I saw that Peter was trying to hide his smile.

I heard the sound of a commotion: Becca.

"I don't _care _if she's wounded because, obviously, I've seen worse. She's my (this word has been censored as it is not appropriate for this story's content and rating. That, and the author's parents would kill her if they found out about it.) sister! So get out of my way before I make you!"

"I worry about your sister's vocabulary, Alex," Peter teased.

"You've said the same."

"True. But that was under extreme circumstances. And, according to you, this is not an extreme circumstance," Peter said reasonably.

My little sister's voice rose higher. "You're trying to keep me out by force?" Peter and I looked at each other, stifling laughs. _I love my sister_, I mouthed to him. "Oh, go boil your heads," Becca added. She strode through the partition, looking seriously ticked off. She saw Peter, spun on her heel, and stalked angrily to the flap of the curtain. "Oh, so you let her _boyfriend _in, but her little sister isn't allowed?"

There was an indistinct mutter, most likely from a Nymph. I felt vaguely sorry for them. No one likes to be at the not-so-tender mercies of Becca when she's angry. "What?"

"He's – he's handsome," was the extraordinarily quiet reply.

"I don't care if you think he's drop-dead gorgeous! Your guy interests are beside the point!"

Peter choked on air, coughing explosively. I reached up and thumped him on the back. He gasped for a moment, staring at me in horror. He shuddered, looking terrified.

"You did not know this?" I asked.

"No!" he nearly yelped. He buried his face in his hands. "Why would I know this? Don't they know I already have a girlfriend? Please tell me they know I have a girlfriend."

"I do not try to fathom the thought processes of certain Cair Paravel Nymphs," I answered sagely. "I do, however, want out of here."

"Not going to happen any time soon," Delah answered matter-of-factly. "You're here until I see fit for you to leave."

I groaned, giving Peter a pleading look. "What do you want me to do?" he asked. "I'm not about to risk her wrath."

"That Sir Peter, he's _real_ brave," I muttered sarcastically. Becca stifled a giggle behind her hands.

"Shut up," Peter muttered, glowering at me. I grinned innocently back, making him shake his head, suppressing a smile. "Why do I put up with you?"

"As Becca would say; 'oh, but you wouldn't hurt _me_, I'm too cute.'"

"I'm getting quoted!" Becca said happily, apparently over her previous annoyance at the Nymphs.

Peter shook his head, sighing. "I'd better go. Matters of State to attend to and all that." He stood, squeezing my hand one last time before leaving on nearly-silent feet.

"So," I asked, "how's everybody?"

"Terrified," Becca answered.

"Annoyed," was Delah's reply.

"Why?"

Becca looked at Delah for an answer. She sighed, and shook her head, putting some healing balm made from the waterflowers of the Western Wild with warm, gentle hands on my leg, making me wince, though the lotion instantly soothed the fire in my leg, cooling it immediately. "They're scared for you, and also annoyed because you're so reckless when it comes to saving others. You would do anything for Peter, and I respect that, but sometimes you would do too much. You nearly died. If your Gift and your magic hadn't been there to save you, then you would be dead right now and Peter would never be able to live with himself."

"Reckless?" Becca asked, her eyes flashing, showing her true feelings. "_Reckless?_ More like (this word has also been censored, due to inappropriateness. I _really _need to talk to Becca about swearing.) brainless! And idiotic in all forms of the word! How could you do this, Alex? You might die! You probably will! Are you that crazy about_ him_ that you would kill yourself so he could live?" She stopped, realizing what she'd said.

I looked at her evenly, green eyes meeting green eyes. "Yes," I said quietly. "I would."

She froze, looking at me in fear and shock, fighting tears. Her lower lip quivered, and I could tell that she was struggling not to break down. I waited, letting it sink in.

She turned, and started walking quickly out.

"Rebecca," I called softly, using her real name for the first time in my life. Only our mother ever called her that. She turned, slowly, and I saw that the tears had finally come. I also saw that she wasn't able to take this. My choice had made her break, and she was hurting. She thought that she was the one who had driven me to make that choice. She was mistaken. "Rebecca," I said again. "I would do the same, and more, for you."

She watched me, and then she really did cry, rushing forward, and falling into my waiting arms. I held her, knowing that I had scared her, knowing that she had been terrified. "You mean more to me than any boy could, whether he's a king or not," I whispered. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Delah leave, silently, not wanting to interrupt. "Rides have to stick together, and we always have. We need to, because otherwise we wouldn't be Rides. It's the reason we have our mother's name, instead of our scumbag father's. I will never, _ever_, make you a second priority," I said, pushing her away so she could look into my eyes, and know that I was serious. "Ever."

She nodded mutely, watching me like the little girl she was, and had not been able to be for so long. I had to remind myself that she was only fifteen. I vowed that I would never forget that ever again.

"Every day I thank Aslan for giving me you," I continued. "I thank Aslan for giving me an easily-aggravated, sarcastic,_ incredible_ little sister. Rebecca," I said, quietly. "Rebecca Marie Ride, I will always, _always_ love you, no matter what happens, no matter what I do, I will always love _you_ more than any other thing in all the worlds. Because you are _mine._ You are _my_ little sister, and I protect what's mine. When you break, I break _more_. I love you. I always will. I need you, because you keep me going. You keep me living. You are what helped me survive our despicable, nightmarish childhood. You are _everything._"

She pulled back, looking at me with our mother's eyes, big and green, with little flecks of gold here and there. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Get a tissue," I said, unable to help my naturally sarcastic mind. She reached for the stack that was on every bedside table in the Infirmary, and blew her nose, tossing the flimsy scrap of cloth into the waste-paper basket in the corner.

She hugged me again, and then left, since she had to take over for me, and let me tell you, taking care of Peter and Edmund is a hard enough job without Susan and Lucy added on, which was what Becca had to do. I got the Kings, she got the Queens. It's a rank thing.

I lay back, wanting out. I don't do well when I'm told to be still. Delah came back in and I watched her resentfully, trying to guilt her into letting me go. She took one look at me and said,. "That won't work and you know it."

Dang it. How did she_ do_ that?

She came up. "You're going to be _well _before I'm letting you out of here. Like Peter said, you are _mortal _now. It means that you really _can't_ just get up and go when you've been wounded. Welcome to normalcy, Alex."

I looked up at her. "You've been talking to me too much. You're starting to sound like me."

"I know. It's sad."

"Hey! You're gonna pay for that." Probably not. I love Delah. She's like a grandma, only cooler.

She smiled and shook her head at me, then left. I sank back, groaning from boredom. How did Peter manage to survive when he was wounded? There's nothing to do! Ever.

I spent three more mind-numbing days in the Infirmary. By the end of the third day, I wanted to scream from boredom. I watched Delah pleadingly from the bed, even using the puppy-dog eyes that always got to Peter. Finally, after the 798th time of ignoring me, she gave up. "Fine! Fine! Get your sorry butt out of here, and don't come crying to me when it hurts."

I let out a very uncharacteristic squeal of joy, and reached out to hug her. She pretended to tolerate it, but I saw her smile. I pulled the covers aside and carefully slid out of bed, to instantly fall to the ground, crying out as pain slammed into my consciousness. I grit my teeth, and grabbed the bedside table, pulling myself shakily to my feet, trying not to scream. I swayed, tunnel vision rendering me oblivious to my surroundings. I closed my eyes and waited for my body to catch up with my mind. I would take this one step at a time, literally.

I felt hands on my shoulders and opened my eyes. Peter was there, holding onto me, not letting me fall. "Alex, what are you doing?" he asked quietly, and I could see that he was struggling to control himself, denying himself the right to order me back to bed.

I looked up at him, daring him to disagree with me. "I'm getting out of here."

Peter looked up at Delah. "And you agreed to this?"

Delah shook her head. "She isn't fine. At all. She's just been watching me with her Aslan-cursed eyes and I couldn't take it anymore." Peter's eyes widened. Delah never swore.

He looked down at me. "Sweet Lion, Alex. You must've been _annoying_."

I gave him The Look©, which is a combination of glowering, stink-eye, and the Super-Deluxe-I'm-Going-To-Kill-You-Later-Glare™.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, sighing. "Well, if you really want to get out, come on, then."

**AN: Yes, I really did copyright The Look and I really did Trade Mark the Super-Deluxe-I'm-Going-To-Kill-You-Later-Glare. Review!**


	5. Going

**Going  
><strong>

**AN: MY MUSE IS NO LONGER FED UP WITH ME! HURRAH!**

Peter had forbidden me from training until Delah said that I was well enough to fight. He also forbade me from giving him puppy-dog eyes, a rule which I immediately broke, and he had to leave the room to, and I quote: "resist temptation." (Peter hates it when I give him puppy-dog eyes.)

So, I was stuck laying around all day, which annoyed the heck out of me. I'm not the most patient of people, especially when I don't have anything to do.

The day after that, I got one of my weird, crazy, This-Is-Purely-To-Kill-Time-And-Who-The-Heck-Is-Gonna-Care?™ ideas.

I started writing.

I've never been one for books, or reading, or writing, but, as I didn't have anything else to do, I thought I'd give it a try. That's where this story came from, and where all the others did as well; from the day I didn't have anything to do. I spent weeks and weeks writing, building up my strength, just writing out everything: little snippets of my life in Narnia, some of the things that had been bothering me for a while, that I had needed to get out but hadn't known how until I started this. And once I started, I couldn't stop until it was finished. It still isn't finished. This story isn't finished, but I'm trying. Some things were too hard to write about, and some things still are, but to understand this story fully, I have to write them. So I will.

Okay, here goes.

It was a month after what is now known castle-wide as The Accident, and I had finally been allowed to continue my duties. They were restricted, of course, and I wanted to scream from anger. I hate feeling inferior. I was no longer complete. I was hardly worthy of my position as General, as I could barely ride a Horse. Walking was no fun either, and running? Forget about it.

I won't even start on training.

Okay, I lied, sorry.

Training was painful, humiliating, and, from my point of view, useless. I had to relearn _everything. _And I mean_ everything_, in agonizing ways. It not only hurt, but I didn't have my Gift, or my magic, which was really degrading, as I had to learn everything the hard way. There were no more shortcuts.

I needed out.

All over again.

Pathetic, aren't I?

I didn't really give much thought to it until _that _happened.

I was sitting, watching Peter and Edmund spar, listening to the occasional comment made by Oreius or a soldier. I sighed, wishing I could join them, but knowing that I couldn't.

A few Calormenes passed by, laughing and shoving each other around. They spotted me and swaggered over, idiotic grins plastered on their faces. They were either drunk or complete morons. Both options were bad.

The one who looked to be their leader stepped forward. I kept my eyes on Peter, determined not to give in. The fight ended with Peter managing to flick Ed's sword out of his hand, then bringing his sword up to his little brother's neck, careful not to nick his chest with the point.

Oreius looked the two boys over, nodding his head. "Good. Wolfsbane, next time, be sure of where your feet are. This is familiar ground, but on a battlefield, it won't be. King Edmund, be sure that you aren't flinching every time your brother's sword comes near you. You've faced down Giants, so why are you afraid of your brother?"

"Because he's a foot taller than me and his sword, unlike those of the Giants, is _sharp_. And bloody _magical_." Peter grinned, trying not to laugh at his brother's response.

"Ah, but Ed, you've forgotten. Your sword pierces through Dwarfish mail," Peter added, reminding him of the wound which Jadis had inflicted upon Peter.

Edmund's face darkened at the memory. "I know."

Peter slapped Ed on the back and turned to me. "Anything, Alex? Or are we good enough that we've done everything right for once?"

I smirked at him. "Hardly," I said dryly, bringing a laugh from the soldiers surrounding them and comical groans from the boys themselves. "Wolfsbane, when you ducked under his arm to twist his sword out of his hand, if you had been a touch slower, _your _arm would be long gone. Being good is not the same as being the best."

I turned on Edmund. "Edmund, when you tried that uppercut it almost failed because there wasn't enough power behind it. Your greatest asset is speed. Use it. You need strength to be the best, just as Peter needs speed. Work together. Side to side and back to back, your brother is your shield. Always. Learn each other's moves, each other's strengths and weaknesses, and make up for them. You know that your sword must be an extension of your arm. If that is true, then your brother is an extension of your fighting technique. Know where the other is and what he is doing at all times. If you are facing opposite directions, know what is happening behind you. Peter, go into his head if you have to. Be together. That's the best advice I can give you. Otherwise, well fought." They sighed, and Peter stripped of his armguards.

They started walking, because they had another meeting with the ambassadors from Calormene and they couldn't exactly go there in armor, and though that would be quite intimidating, we were going for peace.

I stood, starting to follow them, but the leader of the group of Calormenes got in my way.

"Excuse me," I said shortly, trying to slip past them, in no mood to deal with them, but completely ready to mop up the floor with them.

"I don't think we will," the Calormene, who I had dubbed Idiot, said, leering at me.

"Well, then. You would be mistaken, wouldn't you?" I asked, letting some menace into my voice.

Moron – who had previously been the second-in-command – guffawed.

Idiot smiled – a scary, eager smile. "No, we wouldn't."

I forced the anger down. "I don't have time for this. Now, get out of my way before I rearrange your face."

Calormene No. 3 (now known as Imbecile), stepped forward, cracking his knuckles.

"That's bad for your hands, and I've seen scarier threatening movements, though that one was quite classic." Imbecile growled. I smirked.

"Goodbye." I shouldered my way past them, only to be grabbed by the back of my collar. I looked around quickly: the training courts were deserted. This was up to me.

Not that I had a problem with that.

I turned, quickly but carefully, as my leg could make things difficult. I caught Idiot's arm, and pushed it backwards, twisting it as I went. He flinched. "Don't touch me," I hissed, staring him in the eyes.

Moron swung his fist in a rough, unpracticed movement that marked him as an amateur street fighter. I dodged with my upper body and Moron's fist hit a different mark: Idiot's face. He howled and let go of me. I promptly kneed him where no male likes to be kneed and he sank to the ground, down and out.

Imbecile aimed a swat at me, which I easily evaded. I spun on my bad leg, ignoring the pain, and lashing out with my good leg. It hit its target once, twice, three times. Moron was down.

I turned to Imbecile, who backed away, looking scared. I walked towards him.

"Boo!" I said, and he ran.

I grinned, and started walking, needing to catch up with Peter and Edmund, positive that nothing bad would come of it, besides a few bruises.

How very wrong I was.

**AN: Review!**


	6. Prosecution

**Prosecution**

**AN: Another chapter! It's short, but it's very, very important.  
><strong>

Three days later, Edmund came to me after lunch.

"Alex?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

I turned to see him looking down. He was holding an envelope made of the thick, creamy parchment that was used for court rulings and summons. Since Ed is our main judge, he uses that paper a lot. "Two days ago, I was approached by three Calormene men. They, well, they were pretty beat up."

He handed me the envelope, which I opened. He was still looking down.

"What is it?"

"A court appeal. You know the policy, Alex. I can't ignore this."

_Miss Ride,_

_At three forty-five on Seasday last, you attacked and wounded three Calormene officials, brothers of Prince Rabadash. This letter is to inform you that you are subject to trail for physical abuse of said Calormene officials. You have three weeks to prepare for your trail._

I looked up at Edmund. "They're freaking _princes_? Why did nobody tell me this?"

"That's what I thought you'd say," he muttered. "The thing is, Alex. If you lose this case, you'll be stripped of military titles and of your status as a knight and you'll be banished from Narnia." He looked up at me. "Permanently."

"Crap."

He stared at me in amazement. "That's biggest understatement I've ever heard! Are you insane?"

"Probably."

He sighed, his shoulder sagging. "Alex, I can't help you with this. I'm the judge, but it's a jury case, and you can't know who's on the jury. Pete, Su, Lu, and Becca won't be allowed in the courtroom, and I will have zero power as a king until it's over. Once it's over, I can't change it. You're on your own."

I looked him squarely in the face.

"I know."

**AN: Review!**


	7. Trial

Chapter Seven: Trial

There's a thing about Narnian trials: you can't really prepare for them. You don't know what questions will be asked. All you can do is face the music, or the judge. Luckily, for me, the judge was Ed, so no worries there, but it was a jury trial, so lots of worries there.

On the day of the trial, all you can do is show up.

So that's what I did.

Cair Paravel's courtroom is large, imposing, and rather intimidating.

The people of Cair Paravel's courtroom are large, imposing, and rather intimidating.

Well, except Edmund, but Edmund is Edmund, and he has his own way of keeping people in line. I've seen him silence and cow a murderer with three quiet words.

I walked into the room, and it instantly became an uproar. I kept my eyes on Ed, who sent me a small smile.

"If you would all be quiet, we might just get something done," he said softly. Silence fell. "Thank you. The prosecution reads as follows: At three forty-five on the eighth of Heat Moon, on Seasday last, General Alexa Ride, the Lioness, Knight of Narnia, ect, ect, attacked and wounded Prince Arshist, Prince Thilon, and Prince Rishat, sons of the Tisroc. The jury calls Alexa Ride to the stand."

I stood and walked forward, ignoring the people around me. I made eye contact with Ed, and then each of the jurors in turn: I knew none of them.

I sat in the high-backed chair and waited.

A Calormene juror leaned forward and began the interrogation. "Miss Ride, is it true that you attacked three of the sons of the Tisroc (may he live forever)?"

I looked him in the face. "That depends on your point of view."

"I'm not sure I quite understand."

"From the perspective of the three princes, yes, I did attack them. From my perspective it was self-defense."

"Self-defense?" Another juror leaned forward, a civilian from Archenland, Peridan. I knew his face from training. "How?"

"I was about to leave the training courts on Seasday last when the princes blocked my path. I tried to get around them but they wouldn't move. Not only that, but they tried to stop me from doing my job, protecting the Kings."

"How can you do that anyway with that leg of yours?" It was a Calormene, again.

I looked him in the face. "My leg is proof that I do my job," I said softly, daring him to argue in my head, reminding him of Peter. The jurors murmured amongst themselves. I debated asking if we could have lunch, but dismissed the idea as a bit informal. Hey, what can I say? I was hungry.

The jurors nodded for a moment, and then one rose. "Thank you, Miss Ride. That is all. Your Honor?" he addressed Edmund.

"Yes?"

"The jury would like to ask permission to go and discuss the verdict." Edmund blinked once, and then nodded.

"Very well."

The jurors filed out. I looked up at Ed. "That was short." He nodded, brow furrowed, thinking hard.

"Very short," he murmured. "Unusually short. Well, all we have left to do is wait."

"Lunch?" I asked hopefully.

"It's ten in the morning!"

"So?" He sighed, hiding a smile, shaking his head.

"Why does Peter put up with you?"

"I have no idea."

* * *

><p>Hours passed. Okay, not really. More like one hour, but still, I've never been very patient. Ever.<p>

I was on my 593rd time of counting the amount of pillars in the room (31.5. One of them is a bit shaky looking.), when they came back. Seven looked satisfied, four indifferent, and only one truly upset. The head juror came up and whispered something in Ed's ear. He nodded, and the juror went and sat down.

I waited, though from the look of carefully controlled anger on Ed's face, I already knew the verdict.

"The jury has decided. Alexa Ride is guilty as charged, and will be stripped of all military titles and her status as a knight. She is banished from Narnia permanently." He looked at me. "You have one week to leave. Court adjourned."

It was a matter of minutes before it was just Ed and I. I bit my lip, trying not to cry. I'd known that this was how it would end: they were princes, and they could hurt those people. The jurors had been scared, and I didn't blame them.

Peter, Becca, Susan, and Lucy walked in. Susan and Lucy saw Ed and me. They ran to me and hugged me. Becca was watching Edmund, and he nodded silently. I saw her fists clench, then she broke. Whirling, she slammed her knuckles against the wall, letting out a yell. Peter just stood there, watching me. Su and Lu went to Ed, and they hugged him too. Peter looked down and away, swiping at his eyes. I stood, feeling my own eyes prick with tears, and ran to him. He grabbed me and held me close, really crying now, in that silent way of his. We stood there for a long, long time, until both of us stopped crying.


	8. Summaries

**Chapter Eight: Summaries**

**AN: YAAAYYYYY! second to last chapter! Be proud of me! I will post the next chapter as soon as I post this one. Review!****  
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_My week:_

_Day 1:_ Dealing with change. Leaving + for good = no fun. World turned upside-down.

_Day 2:_ Peter wrote and sent a letter to King Lune of Archenland, requesting that I be able to stay there and train as a soldier. Lune sent a letter back, saying to send me at anytime, he'd gladly take me. Said he wanted someone who would train his son, Prince Corin, in the ways of fighting, and he wanted someone to "hammer some sense into the boy. He can't spend his days knocking people down. It won't get him anywhere in life." Have always enjoyed hammering.

_Day 3:_ Packing. Difficult. Made me feel like I couldn't delay any longer. Packed enough for a week. Susan said they'd send the rest once I left. I'd be traveling on foot.

_Day 4:_ Goodbyes. Many mushy tears, soggy hugs, all that stuff I love. Oooh! I forgot! Farewell speeches!

_Summary of farewell speech to the army: _Suck it up. Oreius is your new CoC #3 (Commander in Chief Number Three. Pete's Number One and Ed's Number Two.) Expect bruises. Good luck. You'll need it.

_Summary of farewell speech to the Calormenes: _See ya. Wouldn't wanna be ya.

_Summary of farewell speech to Pevensies and Co minus Peter: _Bye! I'll miss you SOOOOO much. Write! Don't give me that look, Ed.

_Summary of farewell speech to Bex: _You. Stay. Here.

_Summary of farewell speech to Peter: _Love you, Blondie. Write. Ect., ect. Okay, enough of that. Kiss me. _Now._

Alright, I'll admit it. We made out.

_Day 5: _Left. 'Nuff said.

_Day 6:_ Walking.

_Day 7:_ Reached Archenland. More walking. Made it to Anvard.


	9. Finale

**Chapter Nine: Finale**

**AN: LAST CHAPTER! It's been, what, three months now? Review!**

"Alexa! Welcome to Archenland! You look like you're starving! Do they feed you in Narnia? Of course they do! Come! Have some food!" Lune boomed at me, smiling and laughing in delight. I decided I liked him.

What's so wrong with that? Nothing, that's what. He gave me food. I was in _heaven_.

But it wasn't Narnia.

Still, this gig was pretty good.

I was training, killing time, waiting for Corin to come. A swordsman walked up to me, curiosity rather than disdain on his face. "Hello."

"Good morn, Lioness."

I sheathed my sword, examining him. I looked up into his eyes – blue and grey. He was Gifted, lean and tall, with brown hair, obviously a fighter. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name, and how do you know mine?"

"Luas. Luas Skai. I know your name because there aren't very many handicapped women fighters. There aren't very many woman fighters, for that matter. Too few." I nodded, saying yes to both. "I was wondering if you'd – " he paused, unsure of himself, " – if you'd spar with me. I've been watching you, to see whether the rumors are true, and they are. You're incredible, even with that leg. I wish I could have seen you before, when you had your Gift and your magic and when you weren't injured, like you are now."

"I'll spar with you. Draw your sword." He did so, eyes lighting up. "I suppose I'd better warn you. I don't fight fair, and I didn't when I had two good legs, so be prepared – " I came at him, quickly, surprising him, " – for anything."

"Exhibit A?" he asked, grinning as he parried.

I nodded. "Exhibit A." I'll give him this: he was good. Very, _very _good. Good enough to quip intelligently while fighting. Strong, fast, flexible. "You're gifted in fighting aren't you?" I asked him.

"Yes." I grinned evilly. "Oh, I don't like that look at all."

"You shouldn't. Trust me, I am a liar." He laughed. "Watch your blind spot."

"What blind spot?"

My sword flew up to the side of his face, resting on his neck. "That blind spot."

"How long have you been here?"

"A day."

"You've been here a day and you've already gotten a spot in training?"

"I can be quite assertive when I want to be."

He grinned. "I can tell."

Yeah, I'll do fine here.

_Fin._

**AN: One-shots about the Ride sisters shall continue to come, but for now, I'll slack off 'cause today was my first day of high school. First day + high school = not amused. Thanks for sticking around with me, even though I _so_ don't deserve it.**


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